


Under Control

by Kalira



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Accidental Bending, Attempted Drugging, Cuddling & Snuggling, Delirium, Fire Lord Zuko, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Poisoning, Protectiveness, Whumptober, Whumptober 2019, political machinations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-11-23 09:47:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20890106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalira/pseuds/Kalira
Summary: When the Fire Lord collapses at a formal dinner, his consorts have some rapid decisions to make to handle the disaster in the making - but everything is quickly brought back under control.





	Under Control

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Whumptober](https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/187785964678/whumptober2019-october-approaches-and-so-does), Day 21: Laced Drink

Sokka looked at Mai’s face over Zuko’s bowed head, biting his lip. They both knew that she would be equally as capable of hauling him back to the Fire Lord’s chambers, even without the guards’ assistance, despite the significant contrast between his broad shouldered, solid figure and her own slender, willowy one. And they both wanted to be the one to track down the cause of his hurt.

But. . .

Sokka held out his arms. “I can manage him back to our rooms easier.” he said softly, and Mai’s eyes flashed. She bent her head, not quite kissing Zuko’s brow, then surrendered him to Sokka’s arms, ordered a pair of the hovering guards to accompany them with a no more than a sharp gesture and a dark, deadly look, and was gone in a silent whirl of dark, billowing fabric.

Sokka cradled Zuko higher in his arms, declining assistance from the guards, and headed for the safety of Zuko’s chambers. Sokka _wanted_ to go after the one who had hurt Zuko, but Mai would be better _able_, in this case. It hadn’t been an outright attack and he didn’t know the flow of the politics here so well as she, much less how to ride those currents - and no doubt most of a lifetime with Azula had sharpened Mai’s awareness.

Mai also had more innate respect here in the Fire Lord’s court than Sokka, whatever his accomplishments. Sokka was inclined to think only some of that was because she was a lady of the court by birth and some of it was purely because Mai was _terrifying_.

Sokka hummed soothingly, though his own nerves were jangled, as Zuko whimpered and moaned in their huge bed, eyes glazed and empty of recognition in a deeply distressing way. “I’m here. It’s okay, dragon.” He kissed Zuko’s brow and rubbed his shoulder. “It _will_ be okay?” he directed at the Royal Healer, who had finished his examination and was rubbing his hands together in a less than reassuring way. Sokka’s fingers twitched.

“Yes, your highness!” he said immediately. “The reaction is stronger than usual for white ash orchid essence - it shouldn’t have some of these effects at all,” he said with a frown, “or I would have recognised it immediately!”

“But _Zuko will be all right_?” Sokka repeated, fingers tightening.

“Yes! I believe the trouble originated from some _fool_ using orange ash orchids rather than white ash orchids,” the Royal Healer said, snorting and shaking his head, “which, naturally-”

“You can treat the effects that _have_ happened and _your Fire Lord_ will recover?” Sokka bellowed pointedly, and a bottle smashed on the floor as the Royal Healer jerked with a yelp.

A maid darted forwards to tidy the mess, her eyes flicking up at Zuko and then catching Sokka’s for a moment.

“Yes, your highness Consort.” the Royal Healer said. “A bit of smoke poppy elixir and rest and he will be his usual self in less than a day.”

“Good.” Sokka said firmly. “Give him whatever you need to, and then compile your report on the drug used.” His eyes narrowed even as he stroked Zuko’s arm calmingly, humming to soothe his fretful squirming.

Zuko shuddered and gasped, then breathed out . . . and the air that tickled across Sokka’s neck and jaw was a little _too_ warm. Sokka brushed the inside of his wrist over Zuko’s brow. “Is he feverish?”

“He should not be, your highness.” the Royal Healer said, but he was already approaching to examine Zuko for himself. “No.”

“Damn.” Sokka said absently.

“Your highness?”

“Nothing.” Sokka said dismissively, cupping Zuko’s chin and looking him in the eye. He was still . . . not really home behind his molten-bright eyes. “Zuko, dragon, you’re not going to lose control because of a flower, are you?”

Sokka shushed the offended protest from someone who was _not_ far enough onto the bed, close to Zuko, to feel the heat he was breathing - or, indeed, close enough to Zuko in general to recognise what it _meant_, he supposed. Sokka stroked Zuko’s face. “Easy. It’s not cold and there’s no threat here.” he said as gently as he could. “It’s just you, me, and our perfectly trustworthy staff, babe.”

Zuko twisted and whined, face screwing up as he panted, and that was _definitely_ warmer than it should be. “Smoke poppy you said? Now, or. . .” Sokka looked up.

“Ah yes, as soon as he is ready.”

Sokka stilled, then eyed the man. “. . .he’s not getting any _more_ ready. _Now would be good._” he said dryly. “Kisa.”

“Yes your highness!” Kisa said from the corner where she had been waiting since fetching the Royal Healer, in case they needed anything more.

“Would you bring in one of the guards from outside, please?” Sokka requested. “Ah- Who’s out there?”

“Suikan and Ataran, your highness.” Kisa reported, already moving towards the door.

“Suikan, please.”

“Yes, your highness.” Kisa hurried outside, not bothering to bow.

“I assure you, if assistance is required-”

“You aren’t going to be able to help if _more_ assistance than I can give is required.” Sokka interrupted, barely looking up. “Not like this. Be calm, babe.” he soothed hopefully, petting Zuko’s face and shifting to draw his husband’s broad shoulders into his lap. Both the guards outside were benders, and both were - of course - familiar, but Suikan trained with Zuko sometimes . . . he would be more familiar to Zuko, if _anything_ was, and he might be a little more prepared to deal with-

Sokka sighed even as he ducked backwards and twisted aside, hand splaying over Zuko’s shoulder. The Royal Healer was _screaming_, and so help Sokka if that was the smoke poppy he had just flung across the room. . .

“Zuko!” Sokka called as the flame spilling from Zuko’s lips flickered out - unfortunately the flames dancing around his fingers had _not_, and neither were the ones catching in their bedclothes. Again. For less fun reasons than usual this time. “Babe, come on, can you put this out?” he wheedled, though he didn’t really expect it to work.

Zuko whimpered pathetically and pressed his face into Sokka’s chest, quivering.

“Suikan!” Sokka called, coughing a bit as the silk burnt a little too close and fanning away the smoke. “Shush, dragon, it’s all right.” he soothed. “Can you-”

“Got it, your highness!” Suikan brought his hands together in a rapid flame salute, then shifted his posture and focused on the flames. Sokka shifted, pressing his heel against Zuko’s thigh and pulling them both away from one of the spreading fires. He captured Zuko’s right hand - no longer tickling little blooming fires into being - in his own and brought it up, kissing the palm.

“It’s all right, babe.” Sokka said gently, rubbing Zuko’s shoulder and down over his chest. “Shush, there you are, it’s all right. . .”

The flames slowly faltered as Suikan managed to wrest control over them - even when he was half delirious and clearly unaware of his bending, Zuko’s strength and control were . . . hard to match - and Sokka hummed quietly, brushing Zuko’s hair out of his eyes. “Shush, dragon.” Sokka said, swallowing against the thick tightness in his throat.

Zuko’s eyes were hazy and hot, the rich gold a thin rim around his wide pupils, and he showed absolutely _no_ signs of recognising Sokka’s face or his voice or his touch. “It’s all going to be fine. You and me and everything.”

Zuko keened, baring his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut, thrashing a little. Sokka shifted to trap his husband between his thighs, winding one arm around Zuko, low across his collarbones, to hold him steady.

Sokka repeated his assurances that everything would be fine as the fit slowly eased again and Zuko sank limply back onto Sokka. He rubbed his husband’s side again.

“Well.” Sokka said, eyeing the scorch marks in their sheets. “The bedding will need replaced again. Maybe the mattress. Everything else will be all right.”

Zuko didn’t respond, but Sokka hadn’t expected him to. He rocked his husband and looked for the Royal Healer once more. “Smoke poppy elixir?” he prompted again when he found the man simply staring at them, his patience frayed.

Sokka had to restrain Zuko rather more forcefully than he would have liked in the process, but they got the stuff down Zuko’s throat. The Royal Healer looked significantly ruffled, but he tidied up and examined Zuko again where he rested heavy and too-hot against Sokka in a way that wasn’t at all calming and comfortable, the way he usually was.

It was how Sokka’s world turned. Mai ran cold, her lean figure like silk and steel and always faintly reminding Sokka of the tundra of his first home even when he knew - as few did - how passionate she was, and could see it in her eyes. Zuko ran hot - something _anyone_ could see, could know, watching him; Zuko who spilled and shared forever too much of himself - his broader body radiating warmth the way he always offered of himself and his too-big heart.

This was an uncomfortable heat, not quite sickness but not quite right either, even between little spates of flames.

Sokka looked up as the door opened and Mai slipped through like a particularly dangerous shadow, dark eyes taking in the room in an instant. Sokka didn’t have to ask if she’d gotten the poisoner; Mai didn’t ask if Zuko was all right, merely crossed to them, shedding her heaviest outer layers and leaving them, for once, carelessly on the floor. She climbed onto the bed, passing over the scorched layers of silk without comment.

“Tell us.” Mai ordered, not looking away from Zuko’s face, stroking it lightly. Sokka drew a breath and then let it out slowly. Mai brushed a hand over his cheek, then through his hair with a light scratch of her sharp nails, gentle and soothing.

Sokka relaxed, just a little, leaning his head against her shoulder.

He clasped her hand as he both saw and _felt_ her tense - tried to focus on calming her rather than the spike of fury and terror that the explanation of the white ash orchid essence provoked in his chest as the Royal Healer explained. What someone had _tried_. . .

Though he would be available if needed, and had already been ordered to return in the morning if not sooner, the Royal Healer left them alone. Suikan backed respectfully away, out of earshot but close enough to assist with the next spate of flames from Zuko.

“Who was it?” Sokka asked in a low murmur, because if he raised his voice any louder that that he was going to start yelling and he wasn’t sure he would stop.

Mai almost _hissed_ with rage. “Geyon. We knew, we _knew_ he-” She cut herself off, eyes sharp. “He couldn’t control the council - couldn’t control _Zuko_ \- the way he always had before, so he tried a new way. As though _we_ would let it stand - as though _anyone_ would have let it pass! Even if he managed to get Zuko into that state, _everyone_ would know-” She broke off with a soft almost-snarl. “It would have been _obvious_.”

Sokka muttered curses until Zuko whimpered and began to cry, then strangled them down, softening his voice as he hugged Zuko close against him. Mai rested one hand over Sokka’s own on Zuko’s stomach and the other over Zuko’s heart, crooning comfortingly as she bent her head, brow resting against Sokka’s.

Zuko went limp between them, the occasional tear dripping down his face even once he had fallen silent. Mai dabbed away a tear and stroked his hair, fingertips combing through it in a familiar rhythm, and Sokka tried to focus on breathing, slow and deep.

Zuko needed to rest and wait, Sokka reminded himself, and then he would be his usual self once more. Though none of them were resting much, given Zuko’s condition and distress, as well as the fact that one of Zuko’s councillors - even if it was one lingering from his father’s court rather than one of Zuko’s own choices - had _drugged_ him, trying to make him malleable, trying to _take over_, weighing on Sokka’s mind as he suspected it was on Mai’s.

They traded between fighting to keep Zuko restrained and keep him calm, soothing his half-sobbing distress even when he stared at them with blank eyes, until they were both so exhausted they nearly trembled with it. Eventually Zuko sank into what looked like actual sleep, heavy against them both.

“Rest.” Sokka said, his voice rasping a little. Mai moved away, slow but as graceful as ever, and leaned close again with a cup of cool water. “Just rest, and he’ll be himself in less than a day. That. . .”

Mai snorted, proffering the cup once more, and Sokka sighed, then took it gratefully, draining half of it in one swallow, then sipping a little more before passing it back. “Thanks, lovely.”

Mai nodded as she drank herself, then put the cup aside almost carelessly. She trailed a hand over Zuko’s face, then down his neck and shoulder. He was resting almost peacefully, finally. Sokka curled a little closer against Zuko’s back, arm around his waist, and while he didn’t _sleep_ . . . he drifted.

Mai’s fingers brushed over his brow and the top of his head, briefly, then hooked into the whalebone necklace he wore as she, too, went still.

Sokka didn’t know if _any_ of them truly slept, even Zuko, but it was enough of a relief to make him almost want to cry simply to relax and be still, calm. And for _Zuko_ to finally be calm between them, heavy and warm but no longer _too_ warm, his bright eyes closed, his muscles lax.

Mai curled on her side pressed close on Zuko’s left, and Sokka still lay partially beneath his weight, and they clung to each other just a little, drifting together.

“What . . . happened?”

Sokka nearly jerked upright at the strangely gravelly but beloved sound of Zuko’s voice forming _sensible speech_ rather than raised in muddled distress. Mai made a soft sound of distress and relief herself, pressing closer still, her fingers brushing alongside Sokka’s as she stroked Zuko’s chest.

“Mai? Stormlet?” Zuko rasped, and Sokka kissed his cheek. Mai didn’t seem inclined to move at all, so Sokka wriggled himself loose enough to get Zuko a cup of water, helping him up.

A part of Sokka wanted to suggest Zuko should rest longer, but _he_ wouldn’t without knowing everything, and neither would Zuko. Bringing it up would only spark a protest that would tire him even more swiftly. Sokka met Mai’s eyes across Zuko’s body, and they rearranged themselves around him, linking hands across his stomach. Then. . .

They explained, filling in the blank swathes for Zuko.

He remembered going down at dinner, remembered feeling his head spin and the ground disappearing from beneath his feet, remembered desperately wanting _something_ to latch on to, someone to speak to him, and Sokka had to bite - hard - at the inside of his cheek as he listened to his husband’s muddled recollections. It didn’t help the sickening twist in his stomach or the ache in his chest or the spiking fury. Though it made him feel a little better when Zuko mentioned hearing _him_, even not knowing who was speaking, and latching on to that voice.

Zuko did not remember the scuffle of someone being caught out by a server who had tried to confront them himself, nor being brought back here. Certainly he hadn’t caught the exchange between Sokka and Mai, nor any of the pertinent information from the Royal Healer. They sent for the man, who appeared quickly - he must have been waiting for the summons, likely not even all the way across the palace in his own chambers.

Zuko was furious and upset as he heard what the drug in his drink had been intended to do - to make him suggestible, permissive, to follow the insinuating nudges whispered in his ear. To take away Zuko’s will . . . it would be like robbing him of his soul.

It would also, had the councillor had his way, have been a danger to everyone in the Fire Nation and beyond.

The identity of the poisoner was . . . not so much a surprise as it could have been, however. Zuko had been trying to remove the last stubborn remnants of his father’s council for several years - he had restructured much of the court and the administration immediately, but not everyone was possible to deal with in such swift fashion, no matter _how_ determined Zuko had been.

“Bring him here.” Zuko ordered the guards after he had allowed, with ill grace, that he wasn’t quite well enough to be traipsing around the palace, much less to hold court in the throne room, no matter the issue at hand. “I need to deal with this now.”

“Ah, my lord. . .” Dazakan bowed shallowly. “My _deepest_ apologies, but. . .”

“I won’t _strain myself_,” Zuko said, frowning, looking rather strained already as he hauled himself up a bit more in bed, “but this needs dealing with immediately. As much as can be,” he added, inclining his head slightly, “before an actual tri-”

“No, my lord, I mean- I’m sorry. He’s . . . dead.”

Sokka’s brows rose.

“. . .dead.” Zuko repeated, blinking.

“It appears he bled to death from injuries we were unaware he had sustained during his arrest.” Dazakan said, clearing his throat and bowing his head again. “He did not,” he added, “draw our attention to them. At least, not that we heard amidst his screaming of invective about our persons, our Fire Lord, and your consorts, my lord.”

Sokka eyed Dazakan, suspicion sparking that if Geyon _had_ asked for help, amongst _that_, it . . . might have been slow to come.

“Oops.” Mai said flatly, her face utterly expressionless, her eyes cool. Sokka shot her an approving look. He hadn’t heard that the night before.

Zuko looked at her, then back at Dazakan with a nod and a sigh. “Understood. It is not your fault.”

“Thank you, my lord. We are . . . _most_ sorry for the oversight.” Dazakan said, with all appearance of earnestness.

“Well.” Zuko said, rubbing his face. “That’s. . .”

“Great. That’s all taken care of already, then - as much as it _can_ be, to be sure,” Sokka yawned, “we can go _back to sleep_.”

“. . .Sokka.” Zuko said, frowning.

“Or, really,” Sokka continued with a huff, “to sleep at _all_.” He frowned right back at Zuko, blinking blearily. “_Some of us_ were awake all night worrying over our husband. And trying not to be set on fire by said zonked out husband.”

Actually, the bedding should probably be changed before they went back to sleep, given it had holes scorched through it in multiple places.

“Poor you.” Mai said evenly, with a single pat to the top of his head.

“_Thank you._” Sokka said with feeling. “At least _someone_\- Of course, you were right there with-”

“Don’t even think about it.” Mai interrupted as he shifted to reach out to her in return, not even looking at him. “Zuko?”

Zuko nodded vaguely, gesturing to Dazakan, who finished his report on the evening before and the state of the court, then - with nothing else he could offer, with the prisoner _dead_ \- left, wishing Zuko well.

Zuko sank back a little in the pillows, sighing.

“Babe?” Sokka asked softly, running a hand up Zuko’s chest.

Zuko lifted a hand and covered his hand, then twined their fingers. “Was it . . . really an accident?” he asked, looking up at Mai. “Only it’s,” he paused, “very unlike you.”

Mai tilted her head, watching him.

“I don’t want my reign to brush away trials, as my father’s did.” Zuko said quietly, shifting uncomfortable. “That’s all. I know. . . But it’s _important_.”

Mai stroked his cheek. “I was worried for you, and I was in a hurry to capture him . . . and to return to you. We didn’t know yet that you would be all right, or even if you would live; not even a hint what it might have been that had taken you down to begin with. I was distracted. The guards didn’t know he was injured and without me reporting it to them myself. . . It seems even Geyon may not have realised how serious the wound was.”

Zuko sighed, nodding.

Sokka looked at Mai over his head and they exchanged a _look_.

No, trials would not be done away with by _dealing_ with prisoners before they could be held in Zuko’s court, nor would they become shams when held. _This_ prisoner, though; this treasonous man who had been a danger and one they could not remove for years, who had attacked Zuko, who had eeled out of everything they could possibly throw at him thus far and _still had supporters_ among the nobles, still had remnants of Ozai’s court around him, even if most of them were no longer allowed political influence. . .

A trial would have been dangerous, in numerous ways; his death from injuries sustained while fleeing - and fighting - arrest for treasonous poisoning of the Fire Lord. . . That was difficult to argue, no matter how staunch his supporters might be. If they would even want to try, with him already dead, any possibility of reciprocal support lost.

“Things are as settled as they can be,” Sokka said softly, “at least for now. Will you rest, dragon?”

“Keep in mind we aren’t really _asking_.” Mai said dryly. “There is nothing to be done about an already-dead traitor, and you still need rest to recover from _being poisoned_.”

Zuko looked like he _wanted_ to argue, but a gentle bit of nudging coaxed him into giving way, and half an hour later there was fresh bedding on their bed and the three of them were curled together in the centre of it once more, much more relaxed this time.

“Thank you.” Zuko said softly, and Sokka gave a vague _hrm_ noise as Mai sighed. “For taking care of me.”

“It’s our place.” Mai said simply, then hid a yawn in his shoulder.

“What she said.” Sokka agreed thickly, and hummed as Zuko wound one arm around each of them, cuddling between them, warm and strong and steady.


End file.
